


Submerged Lotus

by Path



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-29
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Path/pseuds/Path
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe is a large place, and the Godhead perceives it without strain or effort, impassive and distant. But though he is a thousand thousand times beyond what he once comprehended, he still contains some seed of himself, because when his former leader seeks refuge in his universe, he cannot help but interfere.</p><p>A little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Submerged Lotus

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this fic is going. Let's find out. Gen for now, maybe shipping later? WHO KNOWS

It is said that the universe spirals ever outward. This is true in some universes. The one of which we are speaking now does indeed spiral outward, but eventually the spirals dissolve and an end is reached. It does not go on forever.

It also has a faint fragrance of lotus petals, thinks the being observing it all. He thinks that is very nice indeed, and suspects happily that his universe smells better than any other universe in existence. He cannot back this up, but he doesn't need to. He is a god, and there are very few forces he must answer to these days.

He is effectively omniscient, and he uses it as an opportunity to appreciate the beauty of his universe. He had a simple and appreciative mindset even as a mortal; though his mind and being have expanded a thousand thousand times beyond what he comprehended then, he still finds the act of stopping to smell the flowers a very enjoyable one. He could spend an eternity doing just that, and he might.

He is also omnipresent, in that the universe is literally made of him. A hundred-trillion tiny versions of him, making up the fabric of Creation and stabilizing it through his presence. He is aware of each single one of them, and holds a sort of empathic connection to them, a familiarity bred of their mutual origin. If he wishes, he could focus his gaze enough to pick one in particular. He could smile and wave at him, and perhaps that tiny microscopic being that was once the same person he was would wave back. However, he does not test that. He does not focus his gaze frequently.

But now, a free-floating moment in something he no longer identifies as time, he feels a pull in the universe. He knows the feeling and can identify it, unique as it is. It is the feeling of something coming into the universe from outside of it, a small surge in the fabric of the world as part-pickles change orientation to make what was once air into a living being.

Only one living being enters the world like that these days, and the Godhead knows instantly and without error who it is. He does not guess; there is no possibility he could be wrong. It spurs a reaction in him, an odd feeling of pleasure that has nothing at all to do with the scent of the universe. The Godhead looks over his shoulder furtively, as if someone could call him to task for his actions, and focuses his gaze on the universe. Without a measurable time (no matter how small) passing, his eyes light instantly on the source.

It is one man, and for a little while, the universe will revolve around him.


End file.
